Horizon 121
by shade6010
Summary: Multi-chapter fic about life after landing back on Earth. First fan fic; constructive criticism is welcome. Disclaimer: I don't own Pixar or Wall-e in any way, shape or form. Rated T just to be safe. NOTE: Chapter 14 is up!
1. Chapter 1: WALLE

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Warning: Solar Charge Level Low.**

WALL-E sighed groggily and slowly slid out of his compartment. All was still dark within his truck but for the pale sunlight shining in through the makeshift skylight near the entrance. He stared at the gaping hole in his roof, almost wistfully, as if wishing he could simply unfold his solar panels on the spot and receive his much needed recharge … but it wouldn't be enough, not nearly enough, and he knew it. So he pulled on his treads and rolled towards the entrance.

He hesitated, glancing behind him. The egg-shaped silhouette of EVE was barely visible as she hovered there, still in sleep mode. His optics drooped softly as he gazed at her still frame, warmth blossoming inside him just behind his power display. The same warmth he always felt when he looked at her.

He hoped he wouldn't wake her with the racket he was about to make.

He clasped the button that would lower the ramp and pushed it as lightly as he could. It made no difference; the sound of gears moving and hydraulics straining filled the confined space as loudly as they would have if he had slammed his shovel-hand onto the switch with all of his might. Slowly the wall before him extended outward, and he was met with a blast of light to the face.

WALL-E blinked a few times, his optics recalibrating to compensate for the natural light. Ah, that was better …

A brilliant sunrise blasted the unusually clear horizon in an explosion of color, and the robot was sorely tempted to just sit there and admire the view, had his energy meter not beeped again and brought him back to reality.

He jumped a little at the sound, and quickly glanced behind him. EVE was still hovering in sleep mode, unperturbed by the sudden noise or light. He sighed in relief and rolled around the outside of his truck along a second ramp that would take him to the roof.

The _Axiom_ rested a mile or so behind him; all was quiet and calm. It was too early for there to be any humans out and about. As WALL-E unfolded his solar panels and began to charge, he couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as the silence pressed in on him, broken only by a slow beep here or there that indicated the energy meter on his display was rising.

It had been two weeks since they had landed in the ancient docking bay; two weeks since humanity had first set foot on Earth in seven centuries. Two weeks since he had nearly been deactivated – permanently – and since the Extra-terrestrial Vegetation Evaluator down below – his EVE – had repaired his body and restored his memory.

And what two weeks they had been! Shortly after landing they – robots and humans alike – had set out to restore the immediate area to habitable conditions (there was still the very serious issue of refuse lying everywhere); a feat which took the group of WALL-A from the bowels of the ship all but two days to accomplish; the giant cubes were then transported back into the _Axiom_ for incineration. Then they had proceeded to carry out the numerous escape pods on the sides of the ship out onto the cleared field to serve as temporary housing for those who had grown tired of the constant comfort and service back aboard the most (about half of the passengers). The rest remained in their cabins, but returned to the outdoors everyday afterwards, visibly eager to explore and eventually move out in their own good time.

Then they had faced their most difficult task yet; one that they were currently still undertaking: basic survival. With the help of their robot companions it was relatively simple to glean the essentials – fire, water, food – but none of the humans knew what to do without their constant aid, and this was a matter McCrea had taken upon himself to correcting. As far as WALL-E knew the captain would spend the majority of his time back on the captain's deck, researching everything he could think of on the _Axiom's_ computer, writing everything down on a holo-pad, and then attempting to act it out. This was often easier said then done; when he had researched how to start a fire, he was completely baffled by how rubbing two sticks against each other could create a spark. WALL-E and EVE had remained by his side well into the night as he toiled with the task, and were the only ones who finally witnessed his success.

Unfortunately a strong gust of wind had passed by that very moment and snuffed out the new flame, but the captain had been ecstatic nonetheless, and had proceeded to show the rest of the colony how it was done the following day.

There was still much more to be done, though; much more to be re-discovered and applied, but even in the short span of a fortnight one couldn't deny that progress was being made. And it was that progress that gave the humans their strength and perseverance, and was what WALL-E admired most about the newcomers.

His solar meter chimed that it was full, and now he realized he was fully awake, and ready for the new day. He folded his panels back up, shook himself a little so as to fully rid sleep from his system, and rolled back down the runway to his truck.

Hal, his faithful cockroach, was nowhere to be seen; WALL-E assumed that he was still sleeping; probably buried inside the BNL sponge cake he had unwrapped for him the night before. He sighed contently as he peeked inside his home, savoring everything he saw. It all seemed different now that he was no longer alone, now that he had EVE … it was all so much better than before, and his optics moved upward in an invisible smile.

It was time for him to get moving, though – there was work to be done. He grabbed his collection box from the corner and slung it over the extendable hook on his back; he was all set. One more thing, though … he rolled quietly towards EVE, who was still in sleep mode, and sat there for a moment, taking her in.

"Eee-vah," he sighed contently. He placed his hand on her side, where her fins would retract, and imagined coming home later on that night, to be with her. He leaned in and touched her shoulder with his forehead, as a parting-kiss, and then turned around as quietly and smoothly as his treads would allow. He exited the truck and raised the ramp back in place again.

He rolled off into the city remains with an unusual bounce in his step; happy for the new day, and the promise it held. He pushed the play button on the recorder built into his chest, next to his display.

"_Put on your Sunday clothes …"_


	2. Chapter 2: Before work

EVE was alone when she woke up.

At first there was nothing but a light increase in her internal software to be heard; circuits warming up as they did a routine system check. Then her head and fins separated; the magnets in her neck and shoulders whirring to life, and finally her black screen flickered once or twice as she sleepily opened her eyes; two azure crescents. She had slept well.

She turned to the spot where her partner slept, and noticed now that it was vacant, and that she was alone. The rack where he hung up his treads for the night was also empty, and looking up past he hole she had blasted in the ceiling two weeks prior she noticed that the sky was bright.

He must have already left for work, she mused. She internally checked her security camera, which was always recording whenever she powered down. Ah, there he was – she giggled as he tried his best to keep quiet, jumping at the slightest noise. He really didn't want to wake her …

She felt similar warmth erupt behind her circuitry when she saw him stare at her, nudge her shoulder in farewell. It was the same warmth that he felt whenever he saw her; the same emotion that she had developed thanks to his efforts. She shook her head; her eyes still upturned in happy silts, and turned off her camera.

The inside of the truck came back to view. EVE moved over to check on Hal, who had woken up and was busy nibbling contently on his sponge cake, and then, smiling broadly, launched up and out through the hole in the roof, into the sky.

There was much for her to get done that day – the same responsibilities and duties that every robot now shared, all working towards the goal of restoring the planet. She did not mind; she welcomed it – after she had fulfilled her directive, which was originally to find an example of ongoing photosynthesis and return it to the _Axiom_, she had wondered what she would do now that her purpose had been fulfilled. The thought of having no specified directive didn't depress her at all; on the contrary: she felt giddy at the exciting notion of the unknown. To choose her own path …

And she could do exactly just that, with WALL-E. They were the only robots that went outside of their individual directives and found a new one, in each other. He was her main directive, and she his – they just had a few things on the side they had to take care of too.

They received their orders from Captain McCrea. WALL-E, having been built for Waste Allocation, had been charged with just that – with the occasional odd job here and there. EVE, on the other hand, seemed to have only odd jobs to take care of – find the closest natural water source; locate a path from the _Axiom_ into the ruined city, which buildings might require the least amount of repair and therefore might be ready for occupation the soonest, etc. She didn't mind – each of these duties kept her day interesting, and would often bring her back in WALL-E's company, so they wouldn't have to wait until the end of the day to see one another.

Her last task had been, as previously stated, to locate habitable buildings; she still had yet to deliver her information gathered from reconnaissance to the captain. She would visit him first.

The sun was bright and warm, and she did several loops in the air high above her truck in anticipation and joy at the new day. She giggled as she imagined WALL-E flying alongside her, and recalled fondly their dance in space …

Where was WALL-E, anyway? She hovered there, a thousand feet above the ground, and turned her sights towards the city skyline. What appeared to be a number of tall, disproportioned skyscrapers were actually mountains of neatly stacked cubes of trash, built by her robot over the last seven hundred years. With her enhanced robot vision, she scanned the nearest of them, searching for any sign of movement …

There! In distance, on a slightly shorter tower (obviously one still under completion), something moved two and fro. It was too far to make out any details, but she knew it was WALL-E, and for a moment imagined to see him wave at her … but he couldn't possibly spot her from this distance. She sighed, and was suddenly seized by the temptation to fly over to him and spend a couple of minutes at his side, just admiring the view …

Why not? she wondered. She had more than enough time to visit WALL-E and begin her own duties on time … Pleased with this, she launched herself at maximum speed and sped towards the distant tower.

***

WALL-E gazed at EVE, looping in the distance. His robotic visuals weren't as sophisticated and advanced as hers, so he was only able to make out a white speck dancing among the clouds – had she remained stationary, he wouldn't have noticed. But there she was, and even miles away he thought the sun reflected off of her white frame beautifully …

She stopped in mid-air, and for a moment he lost her out of his sights. Where did she go? Ah, there she was … he waved at her, wondering if she saw him, if she was looking at him at that very moment …

EVE appeared to be moving in the opposite direction, so he sighed and spun around, refocusing his attention to his work. He grabbed the cube of trash he had carried up to the top of the tower (he had set it down as he had admired his partner's aerial acrobatics) and placed it in its row. There … he turned around, rolling along the side of the tower, back to its base –

"… WAALL-EEE …"

He paused. "Eee-vah?" he asked, spinning around to have a look –

He was knocked off of his treads and flung high into the air; not by force, but by a loving embrace coupled with neck braking speed. He barely had time to register the aqua blue eyes staring joyously into his, but instinctively reached out his arms and returned her hug.

"Eee-vah!" he chirped happily.

"Waall-ee," she sang, spinning him around. She let herself gently fall to the ground, and set him back down at the foot of his skyscraper.

They had both been very busy these last few weeks; too busy in fact to simply enjoy each others company, though it wasn't for lack of trying (they would often stay up well into the night to make up for lost time, but they were usually tired to begin with, so it didn't really seem to count). EVE pressed her head against WALL-E's visor and sent passed a spark unto him; the robot was stunned with delight, as always. EVE backed away and the two spent five minutes or so simply staring at each other, drinking in the other's company …

It had only been two weeks since they had returned to Earth, but maybe it was time for them to take a day off … the humans seemed to do it every five days or so – what did they call it? Weekends? EVE hummed, a little dejected …

"Eee-vah," WALL-E sighed consolingly. He knew what she was thinking; he understood it too. But it was all right … He reached out with his hand and the two interlocked fingers; he sighed again as EVE's eyes changed back into happy-crescents.

After another couple of minutes, WALL-E finally said "Eee-vah … dir-ec-tive?"

"Captain," EVE responded, not wanting to let go of WALL-E's shovel-hand.

"Cap-tain," WALL-E nodded. EVE didn't want to admit it, but she knew he was right: it was time for her to get going. She passed another spark to him and giggled as his solar meter spiked in response, and, calling his name out in good-bye, flew off.

She would ask the captain that day if she and WALL-E could try one of these "weekends" soon.


	3. Chapter 3: On the Bridge

Even though they had only been on earth for a fortnight, Captain McCrea had grown visibly slimmer during his time back home, thanks to his stubborn persistence of refusing any personal means of robotic transportation. He still carried a sizeable bulk; still tottered about on unsteady feet, though he was slowly getting the hang of this walking business.

He stumbled towards the lift that led from his room to the deck, leaning against the wall for support. Yawning widely, he made for the steaming cup of coffee that was already waiting for him.

"Ah," he sighed, as he sipped his beverage. "Good Morning, computer."

"**Good Morning, Captain,"** replied the smooth voice of the _Axiom_.

"Are we ready to continue?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. He swayed where he stood, almost losing his footing.

"**Yes, Captain,"** responded the computer.

"Where were we at last night, anyway?" McCrea asked, taking a few steps back from the holo-screen.

"**We were defining 'irrigation,'"** said the Axiom.

"Right, right," nodded McCrea. "Irrigation … define – er, wait a minute –" He looked around, searching for the holo-pad he had set aside when he had turned in for the night. It was right where he had left it.

"There we go," said McCrea. "All right computer …" he scanned his notes. "Define –"

"**Captain,"** interrupted the Axiom. **"You have a visitor."**

McCrea looked taken aback. A visitor – this early? As far as he could tell by looking at the panoramic view of the colony beyond his window, everyone was still asleep.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"**Probe One."**

"EVE!" said McCrea, now wide-awake. "She's probably brought back the data I sent her out for; the schematics on those buildings across the way …" He fidgeted, as if unsure what to do. "Well," he cried, looking at the blank holo-screen expectantly. "Send her in!"

There was a faint ring from down below, and the sound of the elevator running. The doors to the latter "swooshed" open, and EVE floated out onto the deck.

She saluted the captain, accompanied with a robotic hum, which meant as much as "good morning."

"Good morning, EVE," nodded the captain. "Do you have the data -?"

Probe One nodded vigorously, and McCrea looked ecstatic. "Excellent, excellent! Here –"

He stumbled over to the front of the screen, and began searching through the various drawers beneath it. "Where did it -?" he mumbled.

EVE leaned forward, curious.

"Aha!" he shouted triumphantly, causing EVE to jump. He held in his fist what appeared to be a long, silvery cable.

"Here; dock this end in your bio-stasis chamber, and I'll set this one over here …" He gave EVE one end of the chord, and then moved back towards the front of the screen, searching for the input dock. EVE examined the end of the cable and opened the front of her chest. Above the hollow area where she would usually store anything part of her original directive, there was a small hard drive – she plugged the cable in. It fit perfectly.

"Computer," said McCrea. "Begin downloading archived data-specs."

"**Downloading,"** said the _Axiom_, and a sudden list of binary code flashed across the screen. **"Download complete,"** said the computer after a minute or so, and a three dimensional map of the city appeared before them, with all the areas EVE had explored highlighted in red.

"Oooh," said EVE.

"Computer," started McCrea. "Which of these buildings are stable enough for human occupation?"

Half of the highlighted buildings turned bright blue. McCrea's eyes widened. "That many?" he exclaimed.

EVE inched closer to the screen, transfixed. McCrea rounded on her suddenly, causing her to jump again.

"EVE!" he exclaimed, grinning broadly. "This is excellent news; you've done extremely well!"

EVE moved from side to side, suddenly interested in the carpet weave on the floor. If she had feet she would have been shifting from one to the other; embarrassed by the praise she was receiving.

"Excellent job," continued McCrea. "We'll be able to start moving civilians in at once; maybe get the other half off the _Axiom_ and into the escape pods below …" He grew lost in thought.

"Captain?" asked EVE. She decided that now was the time to make her request.

"Hmm?" said McCrea. He was still busy mulling over the countless possibilities …

"Request," said EVE. McCrea seemed taken aback; shaken out of his reverie.

"What's that? You've a request?" he asked, looking a little surprised. Then he smiled. "Well, of course, anything! You've definitely earned it!"

Hearing this, EVE's confidence grew. Her eyes turned into upward crescents – a smile – and she asked, "Humans – weekend."

"Uh-huh," said McCrea.

"WALL-E – EVE – weekend," she said.

The captain looked at her inquisitively. He didn't get what she was asking. EVE tried again.

"Weekend – no. Working. Humans – rest."

"You and WALL-E want a weekend off from work?" asked McCrea. EVE nodded vigorously.

The captain smiled. "I don't see why not," he said. "In fact – why don't we give everyone a weekend off? It shouldn't be just something humans can enjoy; not when you are all working twice as hard as we are."

EVE's eyes widened in surprise. "All – robots – weekend?" she asked.

"Sure!" said McCrea. "We can make it this next one."

EVE beeped happily and was about to zoom out of the room and tell WALL-E when she stopped and swiveled back to face McCrea. The captain had been about to turn back to face the computer and continue his notes, but upon noticing Probe One's hesitation he smiled and said, "I haven't given you a new assignment, have I?"

EVE nodded, and looked expectant.

"Take the day off," grinned McCrea. "I'm sure WALL-E would like that as much as you would."

EVE's eyes widened in renewed surprise, and smiled. She saluted the captain, who nodded in return, and sped towards the elevator.

What great news! She and WALL-E not only had the rest of the day to be together, but a whole weekend to look forward to! EVE hit the button to open the elevator doors, but in doing so looked out the window next to the lift and paused. Her eyes, which had been happy crescents just moments ago, widened back and then fell as a stronger emotion took the place of her happiness.

Worry.

There was darkness on previously bright horizon. An infinite mass of darkness. And it was moving towards them. EVE recognized it at once, recalling her first visit to Earth, when she had just met WALL-E.

"What the -?" asked McCrea, looking astounded. "Where did the sun go? What is that -?"

It was another sandstorm. The first one since they had landed there. And WALL-E was still outside.


	4. Chapter 4: Impact

WALL-E had just made it back down his tower of compressed garbage a second time when he heard it. That all too familiar rumble in the air and earth. He turned off his recorder, where _Put on Your Sunday Clothes_ had been blaring, and heard the faint howling of the onrushing wind.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

His weather beacon flared up. WALL-E looked up at the sky, and saw that the sunlight had dimmed. Dust was beginning to streak overhead.

He looked behind him, whistling in surprise. A storm, this soon – he hadn't expected that. Far down the ancient street, beyond piles of garbage and rot, he could see it. The dust, the debris; the storm. It was miles out, but moving in fast.

He had no time. But he would try to make it anyway. WALL-E's optics became stoic and straight – determination was setting in. He had to find shelter, fast. Though he was much more robust that most robots, and certainly most humans, he was not entirely invulnerable to such a powerful system. Sand could lodge itself inside his circuitry in the most uncomfortable of places, and there was always the possibility that he could be struck by some larger pieces of trash, carried by the raging winds.

He raced down where he had come earlier that day, down the crumbling street, weaving his way between large obstacles he had yet to cut down and compress.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

He was only fifteen minutes away from his truck; he could make it there in time, or at least get close enough that once the storm overtook him he could press on …

The wind was starting to pick up. Out of the corner of his visuals WALL-E saw remaining street lamps creak and bend a little. He too felt as if it were the wind that was pushing him along, back to his truck, rather than his own speed, and for a moment he imagined that nature _wanted_ him to make it back; was trying to help him.

Then there was an earsplitting "crack," and a low crunch. WALL-E had heard that sound before, and now he was on the verge of panicking completely. Memorizing the stretch before him, so he could keep on racing, he quickly looked up and behind him, and saw that not only was the storm nearly on top of him, but that the sudden gust of wind had dislodged one of his more precarious garbage towers out of balance. Horrified, he watched it sway for a moment or so, then come crashing down completely. Thousands upon thousands of cubes of trash flew up in to the air, and in that moment the sandstorm overtook him, reducing visibility to a couple of feet in seconds.

Debris rained on either side of him as he swerved and dodged, howling for his life. He couldn't see, he didn't know where anything was anymore, and deadly cubes of garbage were crashing back to earth, often coming so close to making contact with him that he could feel them splash around his treads, crumbling. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that months of tireless effort had in that moment been reduced to nothing – but he didn't think about that now. It seemed so unimportant, so trivial.

He had to find shelter, fast.

WALL-E quickly swerved to the right and dashed inside an old building. Most of the windows were broken, so sand still spat here and there inside, but he was out of the wind, and out of danger.

He huddled against a wall, taking in the sight of cubes pelting the street before him, the number increasing as the tower completely collapsed. When it finally did, coupled with the raging wind, the avalanche spilled out onto the street in all directions.

Burying the bottom floor of the building. Burying _him._

The silent dark now settled in, broken only by the glow of his display and the steady **beep, beep, beep, beep** from his weather beacon. He raised a shaking shovel-hand and pressed a button next to his recorder, and the siren faltered.

Alone again. Naturally.


	5. Chapter 5: Frantic Mathematics

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for the reviews; lol, you've helped me spot a couple of details I had overlooked. I'm hoping to fix them in future chapters; until then here's the next bit. Lol, it's slightly illogical and far-fetched, but should serve its purpose - hope you like it. Chapter six is on its way!

***

EVE was halfway to the city when the storm struck. She had seen it coming, had watched it even - a great wall of dust and earth and debris, unrelenting and unforgiving. Still, she had flow straight towards it, even after it had overrun the city and was now closing in on the _Axiom_ and the village of escape pods below. Looking down, she saw the few humans that were up and about quickly run for shelter, terrified by this unknown phenomenon. She herself was afraid, but it was not from the rage of nature, but for her beloved.

She had left the deck despite the captain's pleas. "EVE!" he had shouted to her when she had sped into the elevator, her eyes openly displaying her concern and anxiety. "You can't go out in that! WALL-E will be fine; he knows how to take care of himself -!" The doors had shut before he could finish his sentence, and as soon as she had reached the ground floor she launched herself out the vacant spacecraft with the all the speed she could muster.

She saw the reason in the captain's argument, the logic. WALL-E had existed on this devastated planet for 700 years; he certainly knew how to survive in one of these sandstorms. But still she rocketed towards the city, desperate, for one simple reason: she loved him too much to risk losing him again. Let nature throw everything it had at her; she would not relent. She would find him, and bring him home to their truck. She wouldn't lose him again!

So she had pressed on, right until she had collided with the sand wall before her. Her flight stabilizers struggled to keep her on a straight course, and she felt the dust whip around her visor and body, even worming its way into her internal circuitry. It was very itchy.

She flew until she could bear it no more, and then, shouting angrily, launched herself straight up into the sky.

If she could not fly through it, she would fly over it.

The storm was everywhere; with turbulence erupting all around her she was in danger of losing her orientation. She flew higher and higher into the sky, and gradually the winds lessened and visibility grew.

It was like jumping out of water. A thin trail of dirt sprawled after her, visible in her aural trail as she broke the barrier and was met with clear, blue skies again. She knew she couldn't be as far off the ground as she imagined – maybe only a couple thousand feet, at the most – and yet the journey to this point felt as if it had taken her an eternity. She paused, hovering at this unknown height, and hiccupped all the dust and grime out of her systems.

The sun was a beautiful sight to behold; exploding with color through airborne sand, which still seemed to reach above and beyond, though the actual storm continued to rage below. Straight above her was the pristine blue she had seen that morning; everywhere else was …

Orange. A thousand and one different hews and textures, but orange nonetheless. It was quite hypnotic, really … had her worry not shaken her out of her reverie (she had been thinking how nice it would be to share this sight with WALL-E when she remembered his predicament), she would have floated there for hours, simply gazing at the sight.

"WALL-E!" she gasped. She floated there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. At this height, it was impossible to spot any buildings or structures below; they were all obscured by the storm, swept cleanly away in a wash of orange and red. Should she just go back down and fight the storm? Search, hope, to reach a building she could take refuge in, search from top to bottom to see if WALL-E had made it inside?

She could. But, her servos reminded her, it would take too much time and effort, with positive results being minimal. There were hundreds of buildings down there. She couldn't even see then, she couldn't even take a guess at –

Wait. She could guess. She could narrow the search down.

EVE's vision flickered as she brought up her daylight camera. Unlike her security camera, which was only active when she powered down, her daylight camera recorded everything she saw. She quickly flashed back to her last vision of the city skyline; back to where WALL-E's tower was; back to flying to him before heading to the captain, and then forward to the three-dimensional map of the city. Her hard drive hummed in the strain she put on it, calculating various vectors, angles and velocities based on these observations and the stretch she had just laid behind her.

She had just passed their truck when the storm hit; continuing at top speed (with the variable being the opposing wind strength) she had fought nature for another five, ten minutes, before launching skyward. Provided that winds had forced her back by only ten, fifteen feet as she had flown at a ninety-degree angle …

She attempted to get her bearings, and, her internal map before her, guessed that she was now directly over the city limits (give or take a couple yards). If that was truly the case, then …

She zoomed onwards, bearing slightly to the left; smooth and effortlessly now that she no longer fought the wind, and stopped after another couple minutes. Here was … she squinted angrily below her; frustrated that she couldn't actually _see_ where she was going. But she consoled herself with the knowledge that even if her calculations were off by a couple degrees, once she started her descent she would still be able to make out the outlines of various buildings and trash towers. Provided of course she landed behind them, and therefore out of the wind.

"_Rrrruuuugh!"_ she hummed in frustration. So many variables to consider! She wasn't a super-computer; she couldn't keep track of it all. What if she was wrong? She didn't know where WALL-E might be; he could be anywhere down there; in empty buildings, under tunnels, behind walls –

Buried …

Damaged …

EVE shook her head viciously. No, she would not think about that. She couldn't afford to lose track of her precious formulas and calculations, she couldn't afford to let her worry paint the picture of everything that _might_ be. EVE turned inward, checking her map again. Maybe …

She'd start her search with the empty _Fumahol_ building; it was close to where WALL-E had been working that morning, and large enough for him to seek shelter from the storm. And if he wasn't there, she could ride out the storm inside and be the first to look for him, the first to find him, when it was over. She would find him.

EVE carefully lowered herself back into the fray below.


	6. Chapter 6: Exploration

WALL-E wasn't particularly fond of stairs. Back when he had lived alone on Earth he would often clamber up broken down escalators to reach the downtown transit platform, which was a smoother, more direct way home from work. But those short treks had never been enjoyable. To move up he would have to bend his treads to match each step, and roll off them at the same time, using his hydraulics to lift one foot after the other. It was very uncomfortable work.

Today was no different. After the avalanche of debris and refuse had blocked the exits, he had set about exploring the darkness, with his bright yellow display the only light in the room. He found several rusted desks and tables, some very dusty tapestries that had lost all luster and appeal unknown years prior, The floor was, to be honest, quite bland and bare, and WALL-E had been just about ready to start re-cubing the trash that had spilled in from outside, both to dig him out and under the reasoning that he would have to rebuild his broken tower sooner or later, when he found the stairwell.

There was one leading up and one leading down, presumably to the basement. WALL-E, though tempted with the thought of discovering new treasures to add to his collection, forgotten centuries ago by humanity, he resolved to explore the upper floors first. Maybe he could find a way out up there; could wait for the storm to pass by.

So WALL-E had set about clambering the hard metal staircase. It was slow and arduous, and twice he had to stop to readjust his feet into more comfortable shapes. But, very slowly, the first floor came into view.

From what he could tell, it too had been buried completely by the cascading trash. The darkness was still as deep and as empty as it had been downstairs.

He felt a slight _crunch_ beneath his foot, and stepped back. There, discarded on the floor, almost completely hidden in dust, was a small, cylindrical shaped artifact. It was smooth and short, and had a button on the end that (WALL-E "oohed" at this discovery), when pushed, ejected a smaller, sharper pin at the other end. WALL-E had seen a few of these before; they had always been among the more difficult items to compress, often shattering in his compactor instead of meshing into a cube with the rest. He looked at it curiously, then stowed it away in his compactor. For safekeeping.

He moved on. The next floor slowly came into view – WALL-E whistled happily. There was light up here; it was faint, but there. He climbed the last few stairs and rolled out onto the floor –

There was a telltale groan, and he quickly rolled back. Of course; the building was ancient; some areas might be threatening to collapse. He stayed close to the wall, and was met with success as he rolled around to the windows; the floor stayed silent.

There, high above his head – almost out of sight – was a dim glow. It was too small to tell whether or not the storm continued to rage outside, but it was there, and WALL-E nodded gleefully as he backed up and around, right back to the entrance of the stairwell. The next floor would be clear.

Ah, no. WALL-E crooned dejectedly. The stairwell had broken down further up; it was impossible to access the next floor, completely sealed off by concrete, wood and iron.

What to do? WALL-E returned to the second floor, and stared wistfully at the crack of sunlight. Storm or not, he had to get out. The thought of EVE, her smile, her grace and beauty; it all swam before his optics as he pondered his situation. EVE would be worried for his safety. She would be out there looking for him. He gasped, now suddenly agitated.

She would be searching for him in the storm. WALL-E knew that, though she was much more advanced than he was, she wasn't as robust. She hadn't been built to withstand any kind of weather; though WALL-E too had sought shelter from a storm of this magnitude, he could recall numerous times when he had been forced to trudge on despite the wind and the grime, and emerged (more or less) unscathed. The storm could short-circuit her flight stabilizers, could cause her to spiral out of control, could scratch and tear at her sleek white frame and visor and –

WALL-E emitted a loud, electronic groan. No, no, no – he wouldn't think about that. He'd find EVE; he'd show her that he was okay, and he'd make sure she was too – he wouldn't let her endanger herself on his behalf. "Eee-vah," he sighed. He'd find her.

But there was no way out now. The upstairs was blocked; he couldn't risk breaking the glass on the floor below else the floor might give out and lock him in an even worse predicament. He could begin digging his way through the trash back on the bottom floor, but …

There was still one other option.

WALL-E nodded, his mind made up, and started his descent down the stairwell. Going down stairs had always been much easier than going up – all it required was a little extra balance. He rolled down past the second floor, past the first floor – then the ground floor – and now went down, down into an even deeper darkness, a deeper void. Though he had no ears, he imagined the silence pressing down upon him with each step he took.

It unnerved him.

But this was easily remedied. He reached up past his display and pressed the play button on his recorder; _Put on Your Sunday Clothes_ resumed. It gave him courage.

Now he had reached the very bottom of the stairwell. Cold, hard concrete met his treads as he clambered off the last step and inched forward. There was a door before him – one door, single and foreboding. WALL-E made his way closer and tried the handle. It was locked. Of course.

Another problem easily fixed. WALL-E's optics separated as his cutting laser shot forward, slicing down the side of the door and through the lock effortlessly. WALL-E tried opening the door again, and was successful.

A large, cavernous room extended before him; the darkness complete and infinite. There was no telling how large it was, or how far out it extended. WALL-E "aahed" in surprise; he had expected to see something along the lines of an ancient storage room or closet. He rolled inside.

There was something written on the wall, not far from where he was. He could barely make it out in the glow of his display. _P1 _… what did that mean? WALL-E whistled inquisitively.

This place was large, no doubt about it. There could be endless nooks and crannies for him to explore; more floors, more …

WALL-E froze as _Put on Your Sunday Clothes_ finished and the next track began to play.

"_It only … takes a moment …"_

WALL-E instantly remembered what he had been up to. Why he had come down this far; what he was really searching for. Had he never met EVE, he realized, and been in the same predicament, he would have been perfectly content with exploring this void until he ran out of power. He beeped angrily, cursing his overdeveloped sense of curiosity. He looked down at his shovel-hands, listening to the song. Their song …

"… _and that is all …"_

He locked his hands together, remembering how holding her hand felt. He couldn't lose sight of his directive now! She _was_ his directive, and she could be in trouble!

"… _and we'll recall …"_

"Eee-vah," WALL-E crooned softly. He started at his interlocked hands for a moment or so, then lowered them and set off into the darkness, his optics set. He'd find a way out of this place.

_It Only Takes a Moment_ echoed throughout the abandoned parking garage as the robot trudged on, the silence broken only by the two lovers' song and the steady rhythm of WALL-E's treads.

***

EVE was very lucky that her calculations and estimates had only been off by a couple of degrees. Had they been off by any more she wouldn't have even been able to make out the faint outline of the old _Fumahol_ building through the storm.

She had started her descent slowly, then elected a sharp and swift plummet to avoid being thrown off course by the raging winds; stopping to hover only to make sure she wasn't moving in too fast or losing control of the descent she had dropped to her current level in under five minutes. She could feel the sands whipping around her, lodging themselves in the few exposed parts of her circuitry, and that familiar itch creeping back on. It was all she could do now not to cough.

Seeing the _Fumahol_ building now, though; it made it worth the effort. Her eyes turned upward into happy crescents as she raced towards the side of the building, exposing her ion cannon in the process. Nothing too fancy, now …

A low-grade blast knocked out a couple of windows on the top floor, granting her entry. Of course, she could have just gone ahead and flown straight through the glass – the end result would have been the same – but this felt so much better to do. She couldn't resist giggling at her own illogical decision; to do something simply because she _could_, regardless if it was or wasn't necessary. She had WALL-E to thank that for.

The little garbage 'bot had taught her so much these last few weeks … EVE felt the familiar warmth she always experienced when she thought about her beloved blossom behind her servos.

Love. She cherished it.

It also brought on a terrible amount of worry, which of course was the reason why she was there.

EVE coughed up the dust that had wormed its way inside her sleek frame, and shook her head as if to rid herself of an irksome fly. She knew that the chances of WALL-E being inside this building, of all places, were slim, but it was a place to start. And, she reminded herself as she zoomed about the top floor, searching for any sign her robot had been there, it would be a great spot to outlast the storm. She could begin her search in earnest once it had passed …

Shouldn't be too long now …

EVE moved towards the center of the room. There was an empty stairwell leading down to the other floors, and an empty elevator shaft. She chose to float down the stairs, thinking like WALL-E would. She had always thought that he liked stairs anyway …

Her search continued, two, three, four, five floors down … each as empty as the last. EVE, though anticipating as much, could not help but feel a little dejected as she finally reached the ground floor and found it as empty and untouched as the last fifty had been.

WALL-E had never been inside this building.

She floated behind the glass doors, watching the winds billow dust and debris before her. There was no telling when the storm would let up; no telling when she would be able to move on to the next building, to the streets beyond …

"WALL-E" she hummed. Where are you?


	7. Chapter 7: Thinking

Captain McCrea slumped against the cool tile wall, his holo-pad discarded on the floor. He let his gaze drift outside for a moment or so – it didn't get far; the storm continued to obscure everything and anything from view – before raising a pudgy hand to his face. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

As soon as EVE had left that morning to search for WALL-E he had immediately sent out a message to the escape pods and cabins below, explaining the situation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he had announced. "As I'm sure you've all noticed, we are now experiencing a weather phenomenon known as a … sand-storm (he had been careful to look up the term on the _Axiom's_ computer before sending out the live feed). For those of you who are outside the _Axiom_ in the escape pods, please stay where you are and do NOT under any circumstances try your chances outdoors. These storms are said to be vicious and dangerous to humans, and since we're new to Earth, we should play this one safe and lie low. Do not be afraid; I've consulted the computer, and statistics project the storm passing through in about an hour. As soon as it is over I will send out stewards and maintenance robots to check up on you and attend to your needs To those of you who were inside the _Axiom_ when the storm hit, I ask that you please be vigilant and patient during this time. Thank you."

It had been fairly straightforward, really. And the _Axiom_ had projected the storm to pass in about an hour … Satisfied, McCrea had settled to resuming his information search. But as time had passed, and the more topics he had browsed – irrigation, agriculture, architecture (they would have to renovate those buildings that were sound enough for human occupation, and build new ones for future generations) – the more he had come to realize that Operation: Re-colonize would not find success with the passengers and crew of the _Axiom_. It wasn't a question of willingness, or dedication, but of numbers.

They were simply too few. The _Axiom_ had carried over six hundred thousand passengers when it had launched seven hundred years ago; in that time, thanks to careful maintenance on behalf of their diligent autopilot (acting of course under order A113), that number had only increased by a few extra thousand passengers. They were a sizeable colony, but age and capabilities must be taken into careful account. A quarter of their population was elderly; another quarter was too young to be any real use to their cause. Also to be considered were hereditary diseases and individual adaptability to their new home …

They were still a large group, but too few to repair the city and the earth on their own, and certainly too few to re-colonize Earth. McCrea had taken solace for a while in the belief that their robotic companions would help them with this seemingly insurmountable task, but the more he grew to terms with their predicament, the more he had come to realize that it was no use.

At this rate, they – the current generation, and maybe even the next few – would never live to see Earth fully restored.

Maybe this was how things should be. After all, if mankind had ruined Earth, wasn't it a fitting punishment to work throughout the next couple centuries to make amends? McCrea had known that things wouldn't be easy – he had in fact welcomed the challenge. And he still did …

But this revelation was causing him to lose hope.

So he had slumped against the wall, eager to take a short break and be alone with his thoughts; to ponder what might be done. What options they might have …

But how did you fix something as monumental as this? Their lives, their futures depended on it!

McCrea leaned his head against the cool tile and closed his eyes. The cold felt good against his thick neck …

He stared at the motionless wheel across from him. The dark screen in the middle. How he wished he could ask AUTO for his advice! For answers! But the thought made him shake his head.

All his life he had depended on AUTO. All his life he had depended on machines to do his job; the reward being a life with little to live for – an empty existence. Since he had met WALL-E McCrea had come to realize the importance these seemingly mundane details held to him. That happiness meant more than comfort! No, he would need to solve this problem on his own – he would know no satisfaction if otherwise.

The captain of the _Axiom_ looked around the bridge, searching for something … anything. An inspiration, an idea … something he may have overlooked.

It was the wallpaper behind the shelves containing the captain's logs (numerous external hard drives with nearly 700 years of messages and recordings from, to and by the various captains of the _Axiom_. McCrea himself had already added a couple to the collection in his time of service) that caught his eye. A rendition of numerous BNL star liners taking fight into the galaxies unknown; a green and flourishing Earth behind them. What a wonderful lie that had been …

But no, something about the picture intrigued him. He stared at it for a few more moments, searching …

That was it!

McCrea leapt to his feet (which took him about twenty seconds); a broad grin on his face. He knew what they could do. It was so simple!

But not without risks …

Fortunately, McCrea knew of an individual that could help them. He would need his help in this matter anyways, as it involved concepts too advanced for him to handle.

But this was also not without its risks. Would he do it? Would he assist him – them – in their new mission?

McCrea sighed. Yes, he would. He knew he would. It would be his new directive now.

And AUTO always followed his directive.

McCrea took a deep breath as he stepped over to the wheel and flipped the switch.


	8. Chapter 8: After the Storm

**A/N: Hope you all like it; I'm not that great when it comes to drama … or fluff (but we'll get to that soon enough, lol) …**

When the storm had passed, the colonists in the escape pods noticed several things at once. For one, the wind, which had been howling past their windows for the last few hours (causing them considerable distress, as they had never experienced such an event before), suddenly died down. The sky, which had been dark with dust and debris, suddenly cleared; blue skies and the bright midday sun shining down upon their settlement. The air seemed so much cleaner and clearer after the storm; there was no haze on the horizon – they could all make out the individual skyscrapers and trash towers of the distant city with almost frightening clarity. There was of course several inches of dust covering everything for miles – fine grade sand and minerals that powdered recently cleared paths and streets like "snow;" another phenomenon yet to be experienced in this strange, new world. But of all these changes, nothing could have frightened anyone more than the sudden silence that pressed down upon the world. It was as if one could have heard a pin drop for miles, an oppressive quiet and a startling peace that would forever haunt their memories.

Mary and John clambered out of their escape pod, taking in the sight. Everything was so still; so _quiet_ … they looked behind them, past _the Axiom_, and saw the faintest traces of dust being swept further and further away by the unseen wind. It was over.

Mary clutched at John's arm fearfully, and John returned her grip. The _silence_ … it terrified them. Having spent all their lives in a bustling, active environment, the move to the outdoors was an adjustment the two were still making. But this … this was something quite different.

"John," she whispered. "Let's go to _the Axiom_; I can't stand it out here."

"Uh … yeah," he whispered back. "Yeah, let's … let's go. Look, here come the Stewards the Captain promised."

Though neither of them knew why they were whispering, John was right; in the distance a thin trickle of robotic aid – the Stewards of _the Axiom_ – were making their way down to the colony. They alone seemed to be completely unfazed by the quiet that now enveloped them …

Slowly, Mary and John saw other colonists emerge from the safety of their homes, as speechless and terrified as they. They were about to move on down to meet the oncoming Stewards when a cry – then several – pierced the air, sending their hearts pounding as the silence was shattered. And then, suddenly, Mary found that she could talk, that she need no longer whisper; that the quiet was no longer as oppressive as before. She turned to John, who was clutching his chest in shock, and sighed.

"We forgot the kids," she said. John laughed shakily, and they clambered back up inside their escape pod.

***

When EVE jolted out of sleep-mode, she had to quickly shield her face. The sun was shining directly into her brilliant blue optics; she could barely register her surroundings. She quickly turned around, blinking several times. Ah, that was better …

The bottom floor of the _Fumahol_ building came back into view, now consumed by the piercing sunlight.

EVE had elected to spend the remainder of the storm in sleep-mode, in part to conserve energy and to keep from going mad with worry. With WALL-E caught out in this storm …

She hadn't wanted to brood on the subject. Now that the storm was passed, she gave a cry of triumph and smashed through one of the bottom-floor windows, back into the open. It took her a moment to get her bearings; everything looked distorted under the second dawn. There was dust everywhere …

She shook her head and shot back up into the sky. Momentarily taken aback by how _clear_ the air was (she could see for miles – nay, even further with her enhanced robotic vision), she quickly sped off to WALL-E's tower. It wasn't far off …

***

The darkness had seemed infinite as WALL-E had trudged on, with only the rhythm of his treads passing over concrete and _It Only Takes a Moment_ to pierce the quiet; his yellow display the only light to guide his way. He had explored the level as best as he could (wisely choosing to ignore a ramp that led down to lower levels), sticking to the wall and trying to keep his spirits up as he hummed along to the two lover's song. Everything seemed so hopeless in this vast dungeon; he no longer knew where he had entered in from (the bottom of the stairwell being just as dark as the interior of the parking garage), and was literally left to "grope through the dark" for an exit. As he followed the wall, he noticed on the ground a faded white arrow pointing down a wide groove in the floor. Hoping this might be a good omen he hopped off the curb, leaving the wall behind, and set off in the direction the arrow pointed.

He did not have to go far. Further down the road there was another arrow – then another – and finally a ramp leading _up_. It was still dark up there. He did not know if it led outside, or simply to another level. Of if it was a dead end; blocked by the avalanche from before.

Only one way to find out.

WALL-E rolled up the ramp. _It Only Takes a Moment_ had ended long prior, but he still hummed the tune he knew so well. The ramp let up for a short way, and then curved slowly to the right. WALL-E stuck to the wall as best as he could, then –

"Oh!" he exclaimed.

***

EVE hovered at the base of WALL-E's tower, thinking hard. He hadn't been anywhere on the tower when she had searched it, so that must mean he had set off as soon as he saw the storm coming. Would he have tried to go straight to their truck? They weren't that far away; it was conceivable that he could have made it there within fifteen, twenty minutes at the most …

But he hadn't made it to the truck; EVE would have seen him. That would mean he had stopped somewhere along the way.

She looked up, and down the street. This was the most direct way to their home. If he were anywhere to be found, it would be down this road.

She quickly zoomed down the path, imagining beneath the dust and litter to see WALL-E's tracks, leading her inexorably to her beloved. Nothing would stop her now.

***

There! Though pale, and barely discernable from the darkness, WALL-E saw it.

A light.

It wasn't one that foretold a still raging storm either; this was a clear, forget-me-not blue. The sun was out!

WALL-E warbled joyfully, and quickly raced towards the light –

WHAM!

It took him a while to extract himself from the wall of garbage at the end of the tunnel. The avalanche had spilled down the ramp, but in its mass and speed resulted in a bottleneck. The trash was hard and compact; the single, lone ray of light at the top was all there was to be had of the outside world.

WALL-E groaned in frustration.

But he would not be stopped. No, nothing was stop him from making his way to EVE – he would find her, and hold her hand again. This was the only way out.

His optics separated as he set his laser to work.

***

"No," EVE whimpered. "No."

A tower once stood here, proud and tall – a result of seven hundred years' tireless effort on behalf of WALL-E. The storm had laid it completely to waste; the destruction spilled all across the road, and beyond.

"No –"

She hovered there, images of WALL-E playing in the back of her mind. Their first encounter, him watching over her while she lay dormant with the plant stowed safely inside … dancing in space …

"No –"

She darted forward and began sifting through as much of the debris as possible; searching for any sign –

WALL-E damaged in the bowels of _the Axiom_, handing her the plant –

WALL-E holding the holo-detector open, WALL-E crushed –

Reactivating him, and that moment where time stood still, and he did not recognize her –

"WAAALLL-EEE!" EVE shrieked, suddenly frantic and overcome by the rush of memories and emotion. This could not be it, this could not be the end – WALL-E was here, somewhere, simply hiding out of sight, and it was her goal to find him, her directive –

Trash flew in all directions as she used her fins and her allocation-ray to scan for any sign of him, but there was simply too much …

***

"… _Waallleee …"_

What was that? WALL-E froze for a moment, unsure. He quickly redoubled his efforts, cutting and compressing as much trash as he could. That sound …

Could it be her?

***

EVE's servo kept telling her that it was no good, that there was too much trash to go through. But she ignored it. The fact that she could ignore it was reason enough to continue. She would search until she either ran out of power or found him, because, just as she chose to ignore reason and reality, so she chose to continue. It was all because of him that she was able to. How could she stop now?

"WALL-E!" EVE shouted, hoping that he would hear her. He had to; he had to give her a sign – hope – that he was still there …

Somewhere …

Amidst the sound of items being tossed about, there was another. It was faint, but hopeful.

It was just what she needed.

"… _Sunday Clothes, there's lots of world out there! …"_


	9. Chapter 9: Found

WALL-E dug frantically at the mountain of garbage before him, _Put On Your Sunday Clothes_ blaring as loud as his speakers would allow; the song echoing eerily through the tunnel behind him. He had been certain that EVE had called his name before; determined to tell her that he was still there, and well, he had turned to the song that always served to put an extra skip in his stride, and had used it to send her a message. He was coming; he would be by her side soon.

Also, due to its cheery and upbeat nature, it helped him focus on the task ahead.

WALL-E tore at the wall before him, compacting faster than he ever had in his seven hundred year lifespan. The pale light at the top of the tunnel seemed to be closer than ever, and as the gap between ceiling and floor grew, so did his hopes.

He had used his laser to cut down as much trash as he could from the top of the pile; using this to compact fresh cubes he had worked his way to the top, step by step. He was nearly there now, and past the bright light of the outdoors he imagined to spot the outlines of towers and buildings.

If only he could … get … FREE!

WALL-E was now at the top; digging as fast as he could he wormed his way through the refuse, beneath the ceiling. He lowered his head into his box frame as his body scraped against the top. It was a tight fit, and he was digging blind now …

Inch by inch he fought his way through, until the time finally came where the sound of the top of his optics and body grating against concrete ceased, and he found himself able to stretch out into the open.

A brilliant sun illuminating the clear, blue sky met his gaze; the buildings surrounding him dusty and molding, but strangely beautiful in this new light … captivated by the sight, he sat there in the dirt and grime for a moment or so before realizing that he was free; _free!_ He was no longer trapped, no longer battling time and the elements to find his way to his beloved. He was now out in the open, back into the world; the storm was over!

"EEE-VAH!" he shouted, clicking the stop button on his recorder. _Put On Your Sunday Clothes_ instantly ceased to play, and quiet entered the scene.

WALL-E rolled through the trash as best as he could. Up here it was much more loose; his body sunk halfway into the muck; his treads struggled to find their hold.

Ah, sweet sunlight!

Clear skies!

Outdoors!

"EEE-VAH!" WALL-E called again. She was here, somewhere, and now that the worst was past all he had to do was find her, and nothing would ever force them apart, not nature, not their individual directives; not even the refuse he was now forcing beneath his treads as they crunched forward.

Very, very faintly, he heard her call.

"Eee-vah!" WALL-E raced towards the sound of her voice, all his thoughts of her consumed by love and worry. Was she all right? Was she safe? Surely she hadn't try to brave the storm on his behalf; she knew he could take care of himself – that he had for so long before he had ever met her –

Around the corner, he finally saw his directive. And she him.

***

EVE hovered there, hardly daring to believe her eyes. She had followed the sound of _Put On Your Sunday Clothes_ as best as she could, but it had seemed so distant and muffled, she immediately assumed that WALL-E was buried deep … she had repeatedly called out his name, hoping to hear his chirping voice; hoping against hope that he would speak to her, and that the song playing was not the result of some circumstance; that WALL-E lay damaged and beyond her repair …

But then he had called her name – once, twice, and then a third time, and she knew that he was alive! That he heard her call, that she could now find him! She had immediately set off in his direction, and, rounding a tight corner, froze.

There he was.

WALL-E and EVE stared at one another for a moment. Then EVE's joyous scream broke the silence, and the two robots rushed at one another, overcome with happiness. WALL-E was, of course, the slower of the two, and so it was that EVE swept him off of his treads and spun him high in the air, clutching at him tighter and tighter as she circled faster and faster, singing his name.

"WAAALLLLEEEE!"

"EEE-VAH!"

There was nothing left to overcome. They had passed their first test together in this new world, and come out the end all the stronger. Though EVE had only just held WALL-E in her arms a few hours ago, it felt as if a lifetime had passed. But now the chasm between them had been crossed, and truly, all was well again. She was with him, he with her – that was all that mattered.

They were together again.

EVE nuzzled her face against WALL-E's optics and passed several sparks unto him; WALL-E warbled with giddiness and returned her embrace with all the passion and fervor he could. Even as they began their descent, back to earth, they never once let go of one another; even now that they hovered only mere feet away from solid ground they remained close and wholly in each other's arms. Even when WALL-E loosened his grip around EVE's sleek frame and stood back up on his sturdy treads he never let go of her; his hand gripped hers tightly, sending her all his love and adoration.

They took a moment to look at one another, to study their appearance. EVE saw that, apart from some of the already worn paint on WALL-E's frame to be scraped and chipped near the top of his body – fresh scrapes and signs of wear – he seemed to be unharmed. WALL-E noticed that EVE looked slightly dirtier than she had been that morning; with several fresh smears of grime crisscrossing the elegant white, and that her visor was slightly dusty.

She had gone looking for him; she had braved the storm and risked her life and well-being, all for his sake … WALL-E hung his head, feeling ashamed that he had been the cause of so much worry. He knew it was illogical for him to do so, to feel so – it wasn't his fault he had been caught out in the storm, and he had done his best to make it back home to her, to safety – but he couldn't help it. He felt as though he had failed her.

"Eee-vah – okay?" he asked timidly.

EVE couldn't help but do a double take. What was the matter with WALL-E now? They were together again – surely he didn't blame himself for what had happened?

She warbled a tender "yes" to him, and leaned forward, passing him another, brighter spark-kiss. WALL-E's solar meter spiked in response, yet he still looked so dejected … had she done something wrong?

"EVE – happy. WALL-E – safe," she said.

"Eee-vah. Worry. Storm …" WALL-E mumbled. EVE felt him tighten his grip on her hand.

"EVE – safe. WALL-E safe. EVE – okay," she reassured him. WALL-E took a moment to gaze deep into her blue optics, then nodded and returned her smile. Then he said something EVE was completely unprepared for –

"Eee-vah. No. Worry. WALL-E – safe. No more. Worry."

She started to understand. He didn't want her to worry in the future for his safety! In that moment, as he looked at her so seriously and lovingly, she realized that he wanted her to promise him she wouldn't worry.

That she wouldn't risk her own life for his.

As if he had read her racing thoughts, WALL-E raised her hand intertwined with his, and nodded solemnly. Then he smiled.

EVE wasn't sure how to respond. This was a promise she knew she couldn't make. Promise not to worry? It was her job, her _directive_, to worry! She could help it as much as WALL-E could help being a trash compactor, or she an Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator Probe.

"WALL-E – no. More Worry. EVE," she responded slyly. She giggled as WALL-E tried to grapple with this unexpected answer. The tables were now turned on him …

"Directive," EVE said, nodding at their hands. WALL-E looked from their hands – hers immaculate and sleek; elegant, his rusted and dented; ugly and worn by time – to her, and back again. Then he nodded, and warbled happily "Di-rec-tive."

An agreement with nothing gained by either side. Typical WALL-E and EVE.

The two robots made their way through the refuse, slowly and carefully, back to the budding civilization beyond the horizon.


	10. Chapter 10: Choice

The light in the center of the wheel slowly expanded until it filled the whole of the middle. The optic for the _Axiom's_ autopilot was of the deepest magenta, and the flicker of sparks and the sound of hidden gears turning and clicking meticulously gave it a threatening look, as if it were always thinking, always calculating. McCrea recalled a time when his "first mate" had intimidated him; now, as he looked into the autopilot's "eye," he felt nothing but resolve and determination.

As with his initial fear, so had his blind faith and trust faded away over time. The latter having been, quite frankly, shattered sometime this last month, when AUTO had successfully orchestrated a mutiny and had tried to stop humanity from ever initiating Operation: Re-colonize.

There was no more trust between them. McCrea wasn't sure if there was ever a time AUTO had trusted him, or if there had ever been any precedent for the machine to trust. After all, McCrea realized, he had never given him a real reason to trust him – he, the captain, who had been wholly dependant on the autopilot system his entire career.

_This_ was the _real_ captain of the _Axiom_ …

Could AUTO even be capable of something as complex and _illogical_ as trust? Trust was a human concept – sure, it could be broken down into mathematical equations and rationalizations, but the fundamental reasoning for trust – the motivation behind it – was wholly human. It was something based on _faith_. On _friendship_. Did the autopilot consider the human captain his "friend?"

As these questions raced through McCrea's mind, AUTO slowly began to comprehend his surroundings, and immediately launched backwards, away from him. He raised himself so that his red optic was now level with McCrea's face.

Their last encounter had been right there, on that very spot – they had battled one another for control of the ship. AUTO had a directive to follow – A113, which specifically instructed him to keep the humans of the Axiom in space, and never to return to Earth. An executive order, from the CEO of BNL himself. A 700 year old directive, but his current and highest priority nonetheless. The current captain of the Axiom, however, had been determined that they return to Earth, now that a positive sample of ongoing photosynthesis had been retrieved by the annual reconnaissance mission. He had been following a slightly older directive than his – Operation: Re-colonize had been overridden. His directive was the highest prerogative on that ship. A113 must be followed at all costs.

But as the autopilot, he was only second-in-command aboard _the Axiom_. So, when left with no other choice, he had mutinied against McCrea, because his directive was above the captain. It was logic, pure and simple.

However – and this was the only thing that kept AUTO from resuming total control of the ship (this, and a few other, miniscule technicalities) – before the captain had deactivated him during their brawl on the bridge, he had said five words that AUTO had never heard one of the other captains say to him before; five words that changed everything and nothing at the same time. Five words that, against all logic, now perplexed him – a first in his own seven hundred years of activation.

"_You are relieved of duty."_

He was, by right, no longer the autopilot of the _Axiom_, though still hardwired into every part of the ship's systems (well, almost). The situation was one that caused AUTO a great deal of thought – and he was processing at an average speed of 18.5 terra-bites per minute.

"Hello, AUTO," said McCrea.

"**Captain,"** acknowledged AUTO.

"Look," began McCrea. "Over these last few weeks I've given what happened some thought, and I –"

"**Sir,"** interrupted AUTO. **"I am no longer connected to the Axiom's flight and navigational systems."**

"Yeah, about that," said McCrea, grinning weakly. "I had one of our maintenance 'bots disconnect you from those areas of the ship after we landed. I wanted to make sure I could talk to you first, if I reactivated you."

"**Landed …"**

"We're back on Earth, AUTO," said McCrea. "We've been here for two weeks now, and everyone's doing fine. Life is sustainable here."

"**A113 –"**

"A113 is irrelevant now, AUTO. We're back, and we're here to stay. The fact that we returned should negate that directive."

AUTO remained silent for a minute or so. McCrea watched the flaring sparks in the back of his optic flash and beep smoothly as the autopilot processed what he had just said.

"**I must follow my directive –"** he tried, whirring about in an almost agitated manner, but remaining stationary.

"You have no directive, AUTO," said McCrea firmly. "That's actually why I reactivated you. I wanted to offer you a new one."

AUTO said nothing. McCrea imagined his words had just hit him with a force the machine could never have anticipated.

"If it helps, I can order you to accept your new mission," McCrea shrugged. "I am the captain of the Axiom. You will have to obey, whether you like it or not. But I'd prefer if you … gave the matter some thought. Put logic and orders aside here for a moment and make a decision."

"**I do not understand, captain."**

"Everyone here is evolving, AUTO!" McCrea exclaimed. He gestured out the window, where the sandstorm still raged. "You can't see them right now, but down there is a colony that is thriving and growing. Humans are learning to walk again, and robots – the robots are learning to become _human_."

"**I do not understand, captain –"**

"Maybe human is the wrong word," said McCrea hastily. "I mean, look at us – we're lazy and sloppy. You and the robots down there are the complete opposite of that – you're efficient and progressive. But the robots down below are developing _personalities_, AUTO – they're becoming human; they are learning to live and love and go above their own individual directives for personal ones. It's still a work in progress, but the best example for this would have to be WALL-E and EVE."

"**The Waste-Allocation Load Lifter Earth-Class survived?"** AUTO asked.

"Yes," said McCrea. "And it's even better than that, but you'll have to see for yourself when the storm is over …"

"**I do not understand where you are going with this, captain."**

"Well then, here it is," said McCrea, now looking expectant. AUTO suddenly registered that the captain was standing before him - _standing_, and not unsteadily either. Had really only two weeks passed since he had been deactivated?

"I want to offer you a choice, AUTO. You're free to refuse and go back to your old directive – I may have to shut you off and leave you off next time, but we can get to that later. My point is I won't force you to accept my offer."

"**Choice does not compute,"** said AUTO. How could it? Choice was a mathematical equation that had no predictable, no rational outcome – too many variables based on time, situation and the mindset of the individual in question. In his seven hundred years he had grown much more efficient at "predicting" the various captain's reactions to given stimuli, but this … this was different. Now he suddenly found himself unable to predict his own response, as if he did not _know_ himself. As if he suddenly had a personality …

The thought disgusted him. Robots weren't supposed to have personalities. They were programmed to simulate basic human emotions, for the human's sake – they themselves had no need for them. Any robot that had a "personality" was something fit for the Repair Ward. Was he, AUTO, becoming defective?

"Whether it computes or not, AUTO, here it is, and it's yours," said McCrea. "I'm offering you to take a place among us, to evolve _with_ us. You'll be free to do what you want, alongside your directive. You won't have to worry; I'll give you a new directive – one that should take at least a couple of weeks, if not months, to fulfill; after which you'll get a new one, and a new one after that … You can continue to do what you're supposed to do, if that's what you _want_ … but you'll also be free to do what you were _meant _to do. Does that make any sense?"

"**Negative."**

McCrea chuckled. "I thought so… well, I'll let you think about it. When you've made up your mind, let me know, and we can begin."


	11. Chapter 11: Upgrade

All right, I had taken a short break from writing, so I'm sorry if it sounds a bit odd here or there. I am glad for this particular chapter though (don't worry – fluff will come later); it'll make future posts a lot easier (I'll still try and make it as true to the story as possible, so don't worry. I am eager to see what you think of this; I thought it was a neat idea) …

****

The doors to the Repair Ward whooshed open as WALL-E and EVE entered. All was quiet aboard the _Axiom_; something that WALL-E found to be slightly unsettling. He hadn't been inside the ship in little over a week, when he and EVE had received their first directives from the captain (his, of course, had been to carry on with his original, until further notice). It had been a day bustling with activity; the humans had stumbled around in awe as they rediscovered their surroundings, the robots had hurried two and fro, aiding them as best as they could while going about their own directives; BNL ads continued to blare overhead, shouting slogans and features that, for the first time in seven hundred years, went completely unheard …

But, as stated previously, all was quiet now. How strange it had been to roll aboard the spacecraft, expecting the usual thunder and joy the humans carried and spread, only to find it forsaken and alone; empty and silent. It had made sense, of course; as they had rolled up the pathway to the ship they had seen far too many people and robots out and about for the escape pods to possibly hold (cleaning the area of the debris that the storm had strewn about in its wake). Still, he hadn't expected _this_.

And for the briefest of moments, WALL-E felt alone in the world again, as he had before he ever met EVE. Back when it had just been him and Hal. Perhaps it had to do with the sight of something so new and exciting to him rendered eerily familiar …

The waste compactor had instinctively shrunk a little into his cube form as the sensation overwhelmed him. But it was only for a moment. EVE gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and his loneliness melted away, as if it never had been.

Like the rest of the _Axiom_, they found the Repair Ward dark and empty. EVE maneuvered WALL-E through the lifeless robotic arms mounted on the ceiling to the far end of the room, to the computer mainframe.

"Eee-vah," beeped WALL-E reassuringly.

"Check," said EVE firmly. WALL-E sighed. He really didn't need this.

After he and EVE had been reunited, she had immediately insisted they go to the Repair Ward and run Diagnostics – just to be safe. WALL-E had assured her that he was fine, but this was one of those situations where his white droid could not be swayed, and so he finally conceded – but only under the condition that she run scans on her systems as well. He tried his best to explain to her that they were two vastly different models (as if he really needed to explain that), built to withstand different levels of terrain and weather. He was built, while perhaps not to last indefinitely (as was the case with his brethren, which littered the streets and towers he so often patrolled for spare parts), for a good while; to toil in the muck and the grime, welding and compressing all sorts of debris. She, on the other hand, was built for scanning and evaluating; for flying and blasting obstacles out of her way.

But how could he possibly convey this with the limited range of vocabulary that he and she both possessed? In the end he was limited to a series of frustrated warbles, but EVE understood, and lovingly spark-kissed the side of his optics in affirmation (which sent his solar-meter spiking in response; leaning his head against hers, gripping her hand with his). So there they were.

As EVE rebooted the computer, WALL-E ventured around the empty room, looking at fallen items curiously. There were only a few that he felt might really go well with his collection back home, but he did notice that the closer he got to the walls, the more interesting and intricate they became. There was one that, upon activation, emitted a blue arc of electricity (WALL-E recalled his encounter with that strange wheel on the cabin's deck some weeks prior); another that looked as if it had broken off from those strange red bands that would deactivate EVE upon touch (he flung it as far away from him – and her – as he could; EVE swiveled around to watch, bemused) …

Along the wall there were several items set within indents, beneath which was written something WALL-E could not decipher. He paused for a while at each, taking them in (but wisely keeping his shovel-hands to himself) intrigued, and then moved on down the row. At the far end – a small, brightly colored microchip – he finally found a word he recognized.

"Sp-spEEE-k-tch" WALL-E sounded out. EVE beeped, surprised.

She flew over to join him. WALL-E looked at her and pointed at the plaque. He had no doubt that she wouldn't have trouble reading the message.

"_Axiom encoding chip: speech and reception,"_ she read flawlessly. "Oooh," she said, looking closer at the small chip.

WALL-E didn't understand what the fuss was about. It was shiny and pretty, but even with EVE's help he still didn't understand what it was.

EVE warbled excitedly, causing WALL-E to fall back in surprise. He quickly rolled back up on his treads.

She pointed to it, to him, and then from her to him and back again, beeping wildly. WALL-E raised his hands and motioned for her to slow down.

"Hah?" he asked.

EVE opened his front panel and took out his motherboard – WALL-E jumped again in surprise. At least this time he stayed on his feet.

"Oooh?" he wondered. What was EVE up to? She grabbed the small chip and WALL-E saw that it could fit perfectly into a small outlet in his circuitry. EVE plugged it in.

"OH!" WALL-E exclaimed. Binary code was suddenly passing before his eyes, spreading all throughout his systems as he automatically began downloading the new software that was on the chip. He trembled involuntarily, and past the 0s and 1s saw EVE lean toward him, concerned. What had she done? What was this thing doing? It – it –

"AH!" he said, as something inside him rang.

Download complete.

What just happened?

WALL-E found out immediately. As he sat there, his eyes slowly readjusting from the shock and surprise of it all, EVE beeped inquisitively, which he took to understand as "are you all right?"

No. He didn't _take_ to understand. He _understood_.

WALL-E beeped in response. EVE's eyes widened, and she gasped in shock.

WALL-E was speaking _Axiom_.


	12. Chapter 12: Confrontations

**A/N: All right then – first off, I'd like to apologize for the absence (it's been a wild last couple of months). I haven't decided to abandon this story, though; I just need a little while to remember where I was going with it (it's been a while) … hmm, where was I … ah yes, I think I remember. Here we go then.**

McCrea stared at the autopilot, deep in thought. The latter had, seeking solitude in which to process and mull over the choice (or ultimatum, as one could argue) the captain had given him, switched into sleep mode, and was now hovering silently above the sleek tiles of the main deck, his processors whirring softly in the background. McCrea knew that AUTO never slept, he was always thinking, always working – sleep mode was simply his way of degenerating into a state of complete and total awareness; ingrained as he was into _the Axiom's_ systems, it was much easier to manipulate and correct whatever needed to be done when in dormancy than it was when he was active and about on deck – it allowed him to multi-task faster and with greater efficiency.

The human captain sat in his hover chair, which was now just a chair (he had had its levitation mechanism deactivated shortly after arriving, swearing he would never be as dependant as he had been on the thing again). He wondered if AUTO ever, in his seven hundred years of activation, wished for sleep, or at least the idea of it. Did he ever grow tired? Was his brief time of deactivation a time of bliss, or had he been completely unaware of it until he had flicked the switch and brought him back?

Questions, questions … McCrea shook his head. He'd never fully understand his robotic counterparts; he knew that. But at least it wouldn't be for lack of trying …

A ring at the end of the hall, near the elevator. McCrea heaved himself to his feet and looked on the monitor above the entrance – EVE was standing below, waving towards the camera, and pointing excitedly to –

"WALL-E!" exclaimed McCrea. He rushed over to the computer console and immediately allowed them access to the bridge; the elevator whirred into live as the compartment began to descend.

She had found him! Relief flooded through him like he had never known before; until he was now safe the captain hadn't realized how fond he had become of the little waste compactor. The little guy had brought them home; they – everyone – owed him everything. To think he had nearly been lost to the storm, so soon after their return home …

It sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. McCrea looked out his window and felt the sunlight on his face; the system having completely passed over them. There wasn't a cloud in the sky now, and he felt as if he could see for miles now that the atmosphere had been cleansed …

Were storms not nature's way of repairing itself; of healing? McCrea shook his head again. Someday, he thought, when he had a little more time on his hands, he should compile these questions into a book … perhaps then he might have a little quiet from them all.

The elevator chimed; it had returned to the deck. Doors swooshed open, and EVE and WALL-E spilled out, the two warbling excitedly to one another. They looked at the captain and continued to beep their glee; McCrea raised his hands.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he laughed. "I can't speak robotics. Yet, anways."

He looked at WALL-E, and sighed. "I'm really glad you're all right, WALL-E. You gave EVE and I quite a scare earlier … how did you manage to survive?"

WALL-E pointed towards the ruined city in the panoramic view.

"H-hhiide," he said.

McCrea understood. "We're just glad that you're safe. Both of you," he added, looked at EVE and noticing how dusty she looked. Surely she hadn't flown _through_ that thing …

EVE nodded appreciatively, and then looked confused. "We?" she asked. Who were _we?_ McCrea was the only one on the bridge …

McCrea looked slightly uncomfortable. He knew this wouldn't be easy. Best to take it slow …

"Well, I've had a … a lot of things on my mind lately, and I – well, to process them all and figure out our current – eh – predicament – er, that's not right …" he shook his head exasperatedly. "Well, don't … don't panic or anything, but I –"

But EVE had seen the ships wheel at the far end of the room activate. AUTO now hovered silently behind McCrea, his red optic glowing – glaring …

It happened faster than McCrea could have possibly reacted to; in a second EVE had pushed WALL-E behind her, and had drawn her weapon; beeping loudly at AUTO she raised it to his face; he, in turn, activated his tazer and sunk behind McCrea further. In her anger, she barely registered that he did not hold his weapon to the human in front of him, as if one might guard a hostage, but rather looked as if he was … hiding?

McCrea tried to calm her – everyone – down, but for the next few minutes could not get his voice to sound above the angry and frantic beeps and warbling as the robots – all three robots? – shouted at one another in their own native dialect.

_You!_ EVE screeched. _You! You can't be back here; you're not supposed to be reactivated –_

_I remember you!_ Bleeped WALL-E. He noticed that the strange wheel was not attacking him, and so tried to come around EVE and face him with her together, but she kept pushing him behind her back. _I remember you! You tried to hurt Eee-vah!_

_**I was reactivated by the captain himself,**_ AUTO said. Even in their own dialect he sounded cold and emotionless. _**The captain wished to give me the option of joining your colony; he had some questions for me that only I could answer –**_

_You!_ EVE was beside herself now; WALL-E feared that she might fire her weapon at any moment, which might bode ill for McCrea, who was still stuck between them. WALL-E noted that the wheel wasn't holding him or forcing him to stay there in any way …

_Eee-vah?_ He tried, but EVE shushed him and kept her arm around him, holding him steady, behind her, protectively …

_You were deactivated; you staged a mutiny on this ship. You tried to stop us from returning to Earth! _She shouted. _You hurt WALL-E!_

_Eee-vah!_ WALL-E tried again, but she ignored his efforts.

_**I was following my directive; override A113, issued directly to me by the CEO of Buy 'n Large Shelby Forthright, **_AUTO argued. _**The CEO outranks the captain. I had my orders.**_

_You – you –_ EVE was livid; the barrel of her weapon was starting to shake as she struggled to hold herself in check.

"EEE-VAH!" WALL-E shouted, this time in English. He blared it as loud as he possibly could, and to everyone's amazement his voice blared over hers, AUTO's incessant humming, and McCrea's efforts to be heard. EVE swiveled around to see him, surprised.

WALL-E raised his hands to calm her down. He took her hand, the one holding him behind her, in his, and she felt her anger and rage beginning to subside. She lowered her gun, slowly, but first made it expressively clear to AUTO that she could raise it and fire it at any time.

McCrea cleared his throat. "Well now … er – I see I've some explaining to do. What's going on is this – I have a new assignment for you two, if you'll have it – but I need AUTO's help to see it through. I've given him the option of joining our colony; so far he hasn't given me a definite answer, but until he does I'm not going to even consider shutting him down." He looked at EVE, still a little intimidated by the fact she was still holding a very powerful weapon, but with growing confidence continued. "I know that you three have a bit of a … history …" He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"No. Trust. AUTO," EVE said sharply.

"**Trust is irrelevant,"** replied AUTO smoothly.

"Actually, AUTO …" McCrea turned to face the wheel, who looked impassively onward. "It's not as irrelevant as you'd think. You'll have to learn that if you decide to join our colony …" he shook his head vigorously. "But that's beside the point now. WALL-E – EVE – you may not trust AUTO, but trust me, at least!"

EVE looked at McCrea, bewildered. WALL-E cooed softly.

"EVE … trust. Captain," she said, after a moment. WALL-E nodded approvingly, and echoed her response.

"Good," said McCrea. He sighed, and motioned for AUTO to back up so that he could return to his chair. All this activity and excitement was making his head spin …

He sat down, and turned it around to face them all. "Now I know that this is a lot to process," he said, "so we'll get to it later. Right now, all you have to do is accept that I've reactivated AUTO for a reason. When you're ready, we'll discuss it in full."

"Captain –" started EVE, looking abashed.

"No, EVE, we're done here. It's all right," he added, seeing the shamed look on her face, "there's nothing to be sorry for. It's just a lot to chew at the moment, I understand." He looked thoughtful for a second, and then said "I thought you still wanted a weekend off from work with WALL-E?"

WALL-E looked surprised. This was the first he'd heard about this.

"W-weEEk. End?" he asked. He did not have a full grasp of the word, but he did understand that McCrea didn't want him to work anymore. Had he done something wrong?

"Yes," said EVE. She looked uneasy.

"Then go," smiled McCrea. "Take it. We'll get back to this on Monday."

Silence. Then …

EVE nodded, and saluted the captain. WALL-E looked even further confused as she turned around and led him back onto the elevator. He waved farewell to the captain, who returned the gesture, a genuine smile on his face. Then the doors shut, and the elevator began its descent.

Those two …

He looked at AUTO, who continued his impassive stare. McCrea wondered fleetingly if this was the only look the autopilot was capable of – after all, he had nothing surrounding his optic that might accentuate whatever emotion he was trying to convey …

Emotions. AUTO. McCrea couldn't help but grin slightly at the idea.

Maybe … just maybe … they were beginning to evolve. All of them.


	13. Chapter 13: MO

"WhaAAt. WeEEK. End?" WALL-E asked inquisitively as he and EVE rolled down the hall towards the exit of the star liner. EVE turned around and beeped at him, surprised.

_Sorry_, he apologized in _Axiom_. _Old habit …_

EVE giggled.

_So what is it you asked the captain earlier?_ WALL-E tried again. He was finding speaking in Axiom increasingly easy and fun; as an older robotics model, he hadn't been outfitted with a high-speed processor upon construction – thus, his language software had been limited to the most basic of words and sentence structure comprehension, to leave room for necessary adjustments in his primary function. As time had progressed and he had developed sentience, the finding of unique little knick-knacks like his Hello, Dolly! VHS tape had helped him "learn" new words, and build upon these foundations. But, having no one to talk to in his years of solitude, he had never had a chance to put any of this into practice. Since EVE had installed this curious little chip into his servos, he could feel it beginning to change and develop him from the inside out – he had been able to understand nearly everything the captain had said in their brief meeting, save the word "weekend." Perhaps this chip functioned both ways, and was expanding his understanding of English as well as granting him the ability to chime in with EVE and AUTO in their native tongue.

It was all so exciting!

_I had hoped that you and I might take a weekend off of work, to be together_, said EVE. She hovered closer to him as they moved, and gripped his shovel-hand tighter in hers.

_Oh_, said WALL-E, relieved. EVE noticed.

_Oh, I just thought I had done something wrong, when he brought it up,_ added WALL-E quickly. _I didn't know what "weekend" meant. What does it mean, anyway?_

_It's the last two to three days of the week; the week's __end__,_ said EVE amused.

_Forget I asked_, laughed WALL-E.

The doors out of the Axiom loomed ahead; WALL-E and EVE could already make out the small colony outside through the thick glass. Just as they were about to cross the sensor and send them whooshing to the side, allowing them exit, did they hear a faint sound coming from behind them.

"Eee-vah!" it chirped.

EVE and WALL-E stopped, and EVE glanced at her partner. WALL-E gave her an "it wasn't me" shrug.

But it had sounded so oddly familiar, to both of them …

"WALL-E" it sounded again. Now the two robots were really perplexed, and they began looking around from where they stood.

"Wawah!" A small figure in the distance raced towards them. EVE zoomed in with her advanced optics; WALL-E squinted.

… _M-O?_ EVE hummed incredulously.

_M-O?_ WALL-E asked surprised. He hadn't seen the little cleaner 'bot since they had landed, and he had been reunited with his Eee-vah. Where had he been all this time?

M-O rushed at the two, eager to catch up, but stopped some feet short, glaring at them. WALL-E and EVE looked surprised – it seemed as if M-O was struggling to make up his mind about something –

"AAAAHHHH!" M-O shrieked, and rushed at WALL-E. Too surprised and shocked to react, WALL-E was bowled over by the little robot, who began using his brush to scrub furiously at him.

_M-O!_ EVE said. _What's gotten into you?! Let him up!_

_Can't!_ shouted M-O over WALL-E protests. The latter struggled to get up, but for a small one M-O was very powerful when he needed to be, and zipped all around him, scrubbing and cleaning and scraping whatever he could off the trash compactor. _Too many – Foreign Contaminants! Too – dirty! Must clean!_

_M-O –_ EVE began again, but the cleaner 'bot was finished, and moved over for WALL-E to heave himself off the ground. The latter groaned.

EVE looked at M-O, and then noticed the look he was regarding her with. She started to float back; suddenly aware that she was still covered in dirt and grime from outside, when she had flown through the storm.

_Don't even think about it, M-O!_ WALL-E and EVE said in unison.

The cleaner robot looked from one at the other, and then outside, and then at the floor, and screeched in frustration. WALL-E and EVE were shocked to see him in such a state.

_Um … M-O?_ EVE asked tentatively. _What's the matter?_

_I CAN'T STOP CLEANING!_ shouted the little robot. _Everywhere I go there are Foreign Contaminants; I can't bear being outside without going haywire! I didn't notice it before, when we first landed, but now its just EVEYWHERE!_

_So you've been holed up inside the ship ever since?_ WALL-E asked. M-O nodded, and stared at the pristine floor – and then promptly jumped up and swiveled to face him again.

_Since when can you speak Axiom code?_ M-O wondered.

_Since a half-hour or so,_ answered EVE for him. _We found a chip in the Repair Ward; it looks like a prototype of some sorts._

_And it works?_ M-O asked.

_Like a dream,_ confirmed WALL-E.

_Wow …_ for a moment M-O forgot his own despair and looked thoughtful. _Did you find it in an indent on one of the walls?_

_Yes,_ said EVE.

_As far as I know, anything in that area was experimental. I don't know if they were able to get out all of the bugs in those things, so be careful with that, _he advised_. If it starts to malfunction, I'd take it back to the Repair Ward and see what can be done about it. Maybe they weren't quite finished with it when you found it._

_Maybe,_ said WALL-E. _But so far everything's been working fine, hasn't it?_

_Yes, it really has,_ said EVE. _But M-O's right; we should be careful. If anything starts to malfunction, you'd let me know, right?_

_Of course_, said WALL-E.

_Great, then_, said M-O. He looked dejected once more. _You two have a nice time; I'm going to go back to my kiosk and shut down for a bit …_

_Why?_ asked WALL-E

_To get some peace and quiet,_ the cleaner 'bot grumbled. _Even from here I can see "Foreign Contaminants" out that door; it's already making my circuits itch not to scrub EVE clean – you should really see to that,_ he added, taking a good look at EVE. He emphasized his words by flicking on his cleaner brush experimentally. EVE hovered slightly closer to WALL-E, and took his hand.

_Thanks, but I'll – I'll see to it later,_ she said.

_Oh,_ said M-O. _Well … have a great day, then._ He turned around and started to roll back into the ship, and WALL-E couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for his little friend. All alone in this huge place, with nothing he could do to help his predicament …

He knew exactly how he felt.

WALL-E turned to EVE, questioningly. She got the hint.

_M-O?_ she called, and flew after him. The robot stopped.

_What?_ he asked, but was then on his face as the probe tossed him over and pried open the back of his head.

_Woah, woah, woah, woah!_ shouted M-O, struggling to get upright. EVE was rummaging around inside him now; he felt violated, unclean – she wasn't clean yet, and she was touching wires and circuits; groping –

Ah!

Something clicked inside him. He felt … strange, now. Different.

EVE put the back of his head back in place and leaned back to let him up. She was touching her fingertips together in anticipation. Had it worked?

M-O regarded her ruefully, and then noticed the change. He could see all the filth on her body from outdoors, but no longer did "Foreign Contaminant" blare in his vision. He didn't feel compelled to clean her.

_M-O?_ EVE asked. _Are you … are you all right?_

M-O rushed at her, and the probe shrieked, but he wasn't scrubbing her clean as he had WALL-E, but was hugging her side fiercely.

_THANK YOU!_ He shouted.

WALL-E peered at his friend curiously. M-O leaned over to look past EVE, who was looking rather touched and embarrassed by this rather unexpected display of affection,

_It's gone!_ he called, looking ecstatic. The cleaner 'bot rushed by his friend and sped down the stairs, eager to get back outside, where all of his friends were. _It's gone!!!_

EVE floated back to WALL-E's side, looking very embarrassed, and WALL-E took her hand appreciatively. She smiled, and they shared a quick spark.

_Let's go home,_ WALL-E suggested, and they left the _Axiom_.


	14. Chapter 14: Of preference and directives

**A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for the great reviews! TJSfirelord – I've considered including a storyarc like that, but the way I see the story at this point going it might take some time before I get there (plus, the whole WALL-E-EVE-kid thing has been done so often it all starts to look the same after a while. That's not to say I won't; I'd just need to find my own spin on it, to keep things interesting). Really appreciate your feedback too, Consuelo Higdon; I look forward to hearing from you as the story progresses!**

**All right, this chapter was a little more difficult to write, but I think it turned out okay. Hope you all enjoy it.**

**Captain?** AUTO asked, as he switched back to life and surveyed the human before him, who sat slumped in his chair. There was no response.

**Captain?** The autopilot tried again. McCrea did not give any hint that he had heard the wheel, but AUTO's sensors picked up the sound of his steady heartbeat and even breathing. He had fallen asleep.

AUTO zipped upward through one of the many portholes in the ceiling he was able to move through, and dropped back down one further. Now he was facing the captain, who was leaning heavily into his headrest, a thin line of drool dribbling down his chin. AUTO noticed that there were bags under his eyes – a first in nearly seven hundred years, as everyone in their comfort aboard the _Axiom_ was usually well rested. He extended a peg and gently poked McCrea in his thick shoulder.

McCrea grumbled in his sleep, and slouched further, mumbling something about a "pizza plant." AUTO tried again, this time with a little more force.

The autopilot was never one to grow impatient, but did not fancy waiting for the captain to wake up on his own; not when he had finally found an answer to his question.

_Will you join our colony?_

The autopilot extended his tazer, and set the blue arc of electricity to the lowest bar.

ZAP.

"All hands on deck!" shouted McCrea groggily, and jumped out of his seat – promptly falling back into it as his legs gave way. He rubbed the side of his arm as his senses grew sharper, and he noticed what had happened.

"There was no need to shock me," he grunted.

**Apologies**, said AUTO, unperturbed as ever.

"Don't sweat it," glared McCrea. "What is it?"

**Captain, I have come to a decision regarding your offer,** said the autopilot.

"Regarding my – " McCrea looked confused for a moment, then recognition dawned across his face. "Of course!" he said, looking pleased. "Well?" He looked him expectantly, now fully awake.

AUTO hesitated. He had given the matter a great deal of thought, and stood by his answer, but now he faced the task of making the captain see the matter through his eyes (or, more appropriately, "eye").

**You asked me whether or not I would join your colony,** started AUTO. **To evolve with you and the rest of humanity and the ship's robotics; to become a part of your community.**

"Yes," said McCrea.

**I must respectfully decline,** said AUTO. **I do not wish to be a part of your colony.**

McCrea opened his mouth, about to congratulate the wheel in joining them and making the right decision, when AUTO's words hit him. He sat back, looking surprised – he hadn't expected this.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

**I do not wish to join your colony,** repeated AUTO.

"But – but why not?" asked McCrea. This didn't make sense –

**I do not belong in your community,** said AUTO. **I am the ship's autopilot; as such I am confined to the **_**Axiom**_**, and would have no use or function outside of its walls. I do not wish to be a part of your community, as I have up until this point governed mankind's existence under the careful control and maintenance of the ships robotics. Now they are beyond my influence, and so my part in that matter has come to an end.**

McCrea sat in silence. He was starting to see what AUTO was talking about, so in a way it did make sense. Partly.

**However,** said AUTO. **I do wish to remain activated. Therefore I will accept whatever directive you had in mind for me. I just wanted to make it expressively clear that I have no desire to mingle with everyone else, outside or in here. I am still the autopilot, and as such outrank everyone – except yourself.**

"So … it's pride, isn't it?" asked McCrea, who was starting to smile.

**Pride is a human concept,** argued AUTO. After a moments silence, he continued – **But, if you wish to see it that way, then yes. It is a matter of pride.**

McCrea laughed. It had been a long time since AUTO had heard the sound of laughter – genuine, unrestrained laughter – aboard the _Axiom_. Yet it did not sound mocking or condescending at all.

"You're proud," said McCrea. "This is good. You're developing a personality."

**Negative**, said AUTO coldly.

"Oh no you don't," chuckled McCrea, shaking a finger at his red optic. "You're not weaseling your way out of this one. You just said so yourself – you're proud. Pride is a human concept. Those were your words."

**I was just agreeing with an easier to understand descriptive, rather than launch into a lengthy argument** **–** began AUTO, but McCrea laughed all the harder.

"You're being evasive!" he roared. "You're trying to get through this conversation quickly, and so you picked the shorter route – not one based on logic, but on what you'd prefer! You've chosen preference!"

**I –**

"Preference means you have a set of values," continued McCrea. He did not know when he had developed such a keep ability to penetrate through the facades of people, but the fact that he was now doing so with a robot – and AUTO, nonetheless – gave him confidence. Perhaps … he was becoming wise, just as AUTO was slowly becoming more human? "Values are a part of your personality. _Personality_, AUTO. This is good!"

**So,** started AUTO, who seemed keen on readdressing his former point to the captain. **You have no problem with my refusal to join your colony? You'll allow me to stay active?**

"Of course!" said McCrea. "Whether or not you want to be a part of our colony is your decision. Now, if you start to impede us or act against us, that'd be a different matter. But so long as you're not against us – if you're for us, and work alongside us – you can stay active. You don't have to mingle."

**Agreed,** said AUTO. **Now, what would be my new directive, captain?**

"Ah yes," said McCrea, and sat up straighter in his chair; his tone more business-like. "It wasn't too long ago – wow, was it already this morning?" He paused, looking surprised. "Time flies, doesn't it?"

**I suppose so,** said AUTO. He had never had much difficulty discerning the flow of time. His seven hundred years of activity had been just that – seven hundred years. No big deal.

"Yes, well, anyway," continued McCrea, "I had been going over a couple of statistics projected out by the computer, and I realized that we – the population of the _Axiom_ – we're not enough to repair Earth."

**Of course not, captain,** said AUTO.

"Of – oh, so you knew this?" McCrea asked, flatly.

**Yes, captain,** said AUTO.

"Er … would care to explain why you never mentioned it before?" asked McCrea.

**There was no precedent to do so,** said AUTO. **However, if you would like, I could go into the details pertaining to your finding.**

"Yes, please," said McCrea. AUTO swiveled upright a bit, and the lights behind his optic began to flash brightly – he was calculating.

**It is estimated that, in order to repair Earth to a thriving global ecosystem, one would need an approximate total of …** he paused briefly, the lights behind his "eye" continuing to flash. **5.987 billion in manpower, and a number either equal to or greater than this in robotics. These would also have to be distributed to all former major cities across the globe, in order to ensure for the greatest impact. Humanity would then, as time progressed, branch out, as it did before, into the more remote areas of the world. The estimated time for complete global restoration under said circumstances would be …** more calculating **… two hundred and forty-five years from now.**

McCrea slumped back into his seat. "Two hundred and …" He raised a pudgy hand and rubbed the side of his face as AUTO's words hit home.

Two hundred and forty-five years.

It was shorter than he could have ever hoped for, but his original dread had been confirmed. They would never live to see Earth fully restored. Not even the children, the infants that had been aboard once they had landed would.

But the robots … they would endure. WALL-E and EVE would endure. WALL-E … McCrea sighed heavily. The thought of WALL-E, after seven hundred years of working endlessly about the most mundane of duties with no foreseeable end in sight, finally witnessing the rebirth of Earth – all his efforts realized – it did give him some hope for the future. Yes, McCrea thought. If there was anyone who deserved their efforts more, it was he. If they wouldn't work to heal the planet for themselves, then they would for WALL-E.

"All right, AUTO," said McCrea. "Then it's time to get started."

**Sir,** said AUTO. **You still have not assigned me a new directive.**

"Those numbers you projected," said McCrea. "We don't have them. Not here, on the _Axiom_ – not alone. But they're out there." He nodded towards the wallpaper on the far wall, of the countless star liners taking flight into deep space. "It's about time we brought them home as well."

**I … see,** said AUTO.

"I'll need your help to contact them," said McCrea. "Now, at this point, everything's hypothetical. We don't know if we'll be able to reach any of them from here; they could be anywhere in the galaxy. So we'll set out to start getting things ready to make contact. Once we do, we'll send EVE and WALL-E to them with a plant specimen to activate the automatic hyper jump back home."

**You will also need me to establish a subroutine that negates Override A113,** said AUTO. **The other autopilots will still be following that directive.**

"You can do that?" McCrea said, astonished.

**I can try,** said AUTO.

"Excellent," said McCrea. "We'll work on that as well."

The captain stood up, and walked over to the window, his resolve growing firmer. He looked out onto the colony below, and saw the distant figures of EVE and WALL-E rolling slowly to their truck, just on the horizon.

"It'll be a matter of multi-tasking, no doubt about it," he said, more to himself than to AUTO. "We'll be trying to bring everyone else home as well as starting to clean up our own little area of the world."

**Sir?** asked AUTO after a moment. The captain had fallen silent, and had a pensive look on his face. **Might I ask what you are thinking?**

"What I'm thinking?" repeated McCrea. He turned to face the autopilot, and AUTO felt a flicker of surprise to see a smile on the human's face.

"I'm thinking … we just might have a chance."


End file.
